


How the Touch-me-not blossomed

by Cocomelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Gentle and soft Ushi, I really love flowers!, Initially petty Oiks, Injury and healing, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Pining, Treatments in India
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocomelle/pseuds/Cocomelle
Summary: They all loved just parts of him and Oikawa was convinced that there would be nobody man enough to love him wholly. So he refused to love himself either. But the tall, tan man in his bedroom, (who loves volleyball, his dogs, and his dad) now loves Oikawa. Not just his beautiful bits, but his selfish, petty, manipulative, self-obsessed, spoiled drama queen bits too. “You just have some extra fluff on you”, Ushijima says.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ushioi and This is my take on their college AU. It's my first time writing something fiction like in four years. Please bear with me <3

Sunlight streaming through the blinds flood the room and illuminates the tiny floating specks. The pink flowers of the touch- me-not on the windowsill are glowing in the soft morning light and look like how Oikawa feels like right now. Warm, happy and in full bloom.

He traces his fingers over the red scratch marks on the shoulders of the man sleeping next to him. They’ll probably peek through Ushijima’s shirt neck but he won’t mind. They’re Oikawa’s love notes.

It’s 6 AM and Ushijima is still asleep like a rock.

Oikawa snuggles closer to Ushijima and enjoys the dreamy ambiance of a spring’s Sunday morning. Their home is an ancient two storey in the countryside, a few miles from the suburbs in Kansai and there was quite a lot of flora and fauna surrounding them. He can hear the chirping of starlings and bulbuls from the Garden outside their window. The plum trees in their garden are thick with flowers. Their fragrance is comforting to Oikawa.

Ushijima grunts in his sleep, and Oikawa cups his cheek and traces the bridge of his nose, draws his fingers over his thick eyebrows. They twitch and crease. Oikawa giggles. He loves Ushijima’s eyebrows. They’re expressive and reminiscent of ancient swordsmen and ronin.

There was a time when Oikawa hated those dark sloping eyebrows. A time when Oikawa believed, Ushijima’s eyebrows only ever frowned at him. A time, he refused to acknowledge the man sleeping beside him. A time when Oikawa, blinded by his insecurities, swore that the only feeling the giant volleyball prodigy had towards him was contempt. But that was a long time ago and Oikawa was in denial about a lot of things then. He denied that kissing girls did nothing for him. He denied that his eyes lingered on the broad shoulders and muscular arms of at least a few of his teammates. He denied that his fantasies trespassed to masculine territory when he touched himself. He denied the pain in his knee, as he practiced serve after serve. He denied seeing the guilt on Ushijima’s face when he broke down Oikawa and Aoba Josai.

Oikawa was in so much denial, he denied he was in denial. 

Ushijima accidently kicks him in sleep. Oikawa elbows his side and then kisses him. His lips are red and chapped from last night’s activities. Oikawa hops off their messy bed and waddles to their drawer in his underwear. He gets his favorite lip balm and trots back to Ushijima. He rubs the stick over Ushijima’s cracked lips. No response. 

”I know you’re awake. Now open your eyes and kiss me for tending to your lips first thing in the morning” 

Ushijima is still a rock. Oikawa’s lips twist into a pout. He’s leaning down and is about to kiss him when suddenly, Ushijima wraps him in a bear hug and pulls him on top of him. He rolls them over and Oikawa suddenly finds himself trapped under a very awake and interested Ushijima, tangled in the sheets. He doesn’t have to ask for kisses, as Ushijima proceeds to cover his neck and cheeks with wet cherry scented kisses. Oikawa, body tingling in slow, familiar arousal, tilts his neck in welcome and wraps his arms and legs around him. Ushijima pulls himself up and cups Oikawa’s cheek. His fingers caress the freckles on his pale cheek. He tilts Oikawa’s face and peers into his eyes with so much intensity, Oikawa feels as if suddenly, all the gravity of the Earth is concentrated in his eyes. He can’t look away. He can feel himself coming undone. Crap… This is how I’m done! Oikawa thinks as Ushijima leans down and Oikawa can see the distance between his cherry coated lips and Oikawa’s own decreasing in slow motion. His backside throbs in pain and Oikawa is suddenly very worried about morning breath. He doesn’t remember how many times they fucked last night. But by the signals his butt and hips are sending, it was more than enough sex for a wild Friday night. He pushes off a grumbling Ushijima with a kiss on his cheeks and struts off to the bathroom, laughing.

“You should brush your teeth and shave, I’m gonna get a stubble burn with that “, he calls out to Ushijima, who had gotten very invested in their morning make out session.

Oikawa ruffles his hair and looks into the bathroom mirror. His reflection is immaculate with glowing skin, bouncy hair and a blushing smile. He’s proud of what he sees. He’s happy that his smiles are no longer the lies they used to be. He’s 26, a pro volleyball player, successful and in love. Oikawa chuckles. “Tell that to the 18-year-old me”.

Although he misses his high school and old friendships, he doesn’t really miss his teenage self. To his friends and fans, he was the glorious Oikawa Tooru, the handsome people charmer and volleyball player extraordinaire with the perfect family and perfect life. But they didn’t know that 18-year-old Oikawa was a liar. He lied to himself. He lied that the perfection that was Kageyama, made him feel unnecessary and worthless. He lied that he didn’t feel threatened and expendable ever since Kageyama began setting. He lied that he didn’t practice over time to compensate for Kageyama’s genius so much that his right knee started feeling funny whenever he jumped. He lied to Iwaizumi when he asked if he was interested in the tall guy basketball player in their class (Iwachan, aren’t you the gay one? You’re so popular with all the guys!?) He lied to his family that he liked girls. He put up walls around himself to cover his miserable heart and flaunted his beautiful skin. Like his coach had once said, he wasn’t a genius. He was an ordinary guy who wanted to succeed among geniuses and his stubbornness and pride were his only defenses. 18-year-old Oikawa hated himself and that made him a sore loser. Iwaizumi always saw through his lies and swore he was so full of shit. Matsunn and Makki were his friends, but they were wary of him and joked he was a manipulative asshole. His girlfriends called him selfish and self-obsessed. They all loved just parts of him and Oikawa was convinced that there would be nobody man enough to love him wholly. So he refused to love himself either. But the tall, tan man in his bedroom, (who loves volleyball, his dogs, and his dad) now loves Oikawa. Not just his beautiful bits, but his selfish, petty, manipulative, self-obsessed, spoiled drama queen bits too. “You just have some extra fluff on you”, Ushijima says. 

It was University that gave Oikawa reality check and forced him to reevaluate himself and his life choices when he realized that he would be tossing to Ushijima, who was in the same University and Volleyball team as him. Tossing to Ushijima was nothing short of humiliating. But Oikawa was a seasoned player. He knew the golden rules of being a good setter. He couldn’t lose the fight for the title of the team’s official setter because of failures and loose ends from high school. So he swallowed his bitterness and tossed to Ushijima. But he refused to accept him. They were on the same team. But they weren’t teammates. Oikawa always kept Ushijima outside a circle that he drew around himself and his “friends”. Though Oikawa appeared nonchalant playing beside Ushijima, he was passively aggressive (aka was a little bitch). Ushijima took Oikawa in stride. On their first day, Ushijima greeted and tried to friend talk a frustrated and seething Oikawa. Needless to say, he faced cold rejection. Oikawa remembers a confused (and excited) Ushijima trying to bond with him during their first weeks by discussing combo moves and new routines during practice. He remembers Ushijima patiently waiting in the gym, for his serving practice to end in the hopes of practicing spiking with him. He remembers the disappointment on his face as he refused him every single time. He remembers him being very vocal at criticizing (aka harassing) Ushijima. He doesn’t remember when, but at some point, he realized that Ushijima no longer waited on him anymore. He still congratulated Oikawa’s smooth plays and brilliant tosses. But he no longer hung around Oikawa with that hopeful look on his face. Oikawa remembers feeling as if he had kicked an overgrown puppy. 

Within a month of playing with him, Oikawa was sure that Ushijima was the best damn spiker he had ever seen and that they were lucky to have him on their team. He envied his gargantuan strength and stamina and used them mercilessly. Oikawa brought out the best in him and Ushijima couldn’t have been more satisfied. They both got regular positions on the team along with another first year, a smooth middle blocker from Tokyo named Kuroo. Though they were allies, there were times Oikawa felt inadequate and inferior when he stood beside Ushijima. He was the Sun and his glare blinded Oikawa’s shine. 

He put his body through some of the most strenuous training he’s ever had during his first semester in college. The national Inter-university championships were on the horizon and he didn’t want his position as the starting setter to be compromised. He remembers training so much, he felt sweat clinging to his skin even when he wasn’t sweating. He trained so hard that his knee became an angry red, painful swollen mass and he had to be carried to the physician. He was advised at least 2 weeks of rest due to damaged cartilage. After some non-inflammatory drugs, lots of icing and hours of Netflix, Oikawa was back to full throttle in two weeks. His injury was the hot topic and of course, Ushijima heard of it. He often approached Oikawa and threw concerned questions and reproaches on his apparent lack of attentiveness to his knees. He was always and polite and though Oikawa tossed his hair and brushed him off, he kept on to it (“Oikawa, you’re stressing your legs too much.” “Please take care of yourself.” “Put on an ice pack. It’ll prevent swelling.”).It was unsolicited and pissed off Oikawa. But he would be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t enjoy all the attention Ushijima threw his way.

With his schedule packed with classes and volleyball practice and group dates Oikawa felt like he was being carried by flood waters to god knows where. The lovely ladies and the occasional guy of the University competed for Oikawa’s time and affections. The fast life suited him, though. He had always been a dynamic person.

Few of the times in between classes, when Oikawa was being haggled over by girls in the corridors, he remembers seeing Ushijima’s olive eyes peering at him, heavy and longing. Oikawa always pretended to be oblivious. He surprised himself one day when he realized that he was unconsciously searching for those Olive eyes and tan skin in the hallways and cafeterias.

Oikawa drowned the weirdness and uneasiness he felt around Ushijima with more training. Months of late hours spent in the gym and dozens of practice matches later, one morning found Oikawa unable to get off his bed. He couldn’t move his right leg. His right knee, under so much stress, had finally thrown the towel and signed off. A trip to an Orthopedist told him that his knee cap was misaligned and that it was severely damaged due to overuse. He was given drugs and was prescribed physical therapy.But they would only provide temporary relief. He could opt surgery but he might never be able to play again. The next few months were a blur to him with pain medications, physical therapy, pain and more pain. He couldn’t sit with his knees bent and there was a weird crunching sound when he walked. His therapist, a cheerful lady, was very optimistic that Oikawa would make full recovery. But after two months, Oikawa still wasn’t walking without crutches and the volleyball in the corner of his room had gotten dusty.

Oikawa remembers how he bled sweat with the exertion from walking to his classes. He remembers the throbbing in his joints and the needles of pain in his knee as muddled through therapy sessions. It all came to a head the evening the coach announced the starting lineup for the Inter-University volleyball championship prelims.

‘I’m sorry Oikawa. You know this already. You’re not playing this year. I know it’s tough. But it’s only your first year. Don’t give up. When you’re all healed up, come back and I’ll put you on my team.’

Numbness filled his mind and bones as he remembers the Coaches’ words. It didn’t matter how hard he trained, how good he was, his knee was his downfall. Forget defeating Ushijima, he wasn’t even good enough to play with him. Disappointed and angry, Oikawa wished he might as well bust his leg then and there. At least he won’t be kept longing and waiting to play anymore. 

The Coaches’ words killed something inside of Oikawa. He heard what the coach had said. He also heard what the coach had left unsaid. He stopped going for therapy. Stopped going to the gym to watch his teammates practice. He stopped hoping. 

A few weeks after, Ushijima surprised Oikawa by visiting his dorm. It was a sunny day. The kind of day Oikawa would have never spent cooped up inside. Ushijima’s eyes were full of concern as he asked,

” Oikawa, what’s wrong? Your knee… how is it? You’re not coming to watch us practice anymore” 

Oikawa leaned against the doorway and sneered “Why would I want to watch you practice? Come to rip me a new one have you? Go ahead. “ 

Ushijima’s voice was desperate as he pled,” Tell me what wrong Oikawa, I’ll make it better”

Oikawa remembers the maniacal way he had laughed at the horror on Ushijima’s face as he hobbled out into the corridor on his crutches and confessed that he had quit Volleyball. He remembers his laugh transition to uncontrollable sobbing. He remembers feeling strong arms wrap around his shaking form. Ushijima’s frame was solid and steady as Oikawa held on to him and cried his soul out. When he came back to his senses and pushed Ushijima away with a weak “sorry” and “thank you”, he held on and started talking to him. He remembers how Ushijima’s hands were warm as he took Oikawa’s cold ones in his own and admitted that he had always believed Oikawa was the best setter he had known and had honestly just wanted to play with him rather than play against him all those years in high school. 

“You bring out the best in me. You make me stronger”, he had said as he declared to sit out from the matches that year. 

“Why?” Oikawa had asked incredulously.

“Waiting for you to come back of course”, was the unabashed reply.

That day, Ushijima gifted him a tiny plant in a terracotta pot.

”What is it?” Oikawa had asked, wiping away his tears.

“A touch me not, to keep you happy”

Oikawa remembers touching the plant tentatively, only to see the tiny leaves fold and close shut. Ushijima talked about mysterious treatments in foreign countries. Names he had never heard of. He wanted Oikawa to never give up. He wanted him to look for new, better ways. When Ushijima left, though he was unsure of how to nurture it, Oikawa hugged the tiny plant and seated it on his table beside the window. 

After the heart to heart with Ushijima, Oikawa was determined to fix himself. He and his parents visited a multitude of specialists. After weeks of disappointment, an old graying ortho-neuro-physiotherapist talked to him about herbal treatments and Ayurveda. Oikawa was skeptical. But after hearing about the treatment regimens and others’ experiences, he decided to give it a shot. In a month, he had said goodbye to his friends in college as he and his mother flew to India. The hospital was a beautiful villa nestled under coconut groves on the shores of a huge lake. Their doctor, a veteran in Ayurveda, gave him no promises. The massages were sometimes painful and he wasn’t a fan of the herbal oils that they put on him. But as days passed, he found the pain ebbing away and the degrees of freedom of his knee increasing. After two months of patience and dripping oils, Oikawa’s knee was no longer in the junkyard and he could go for runs through the rows of coconut and areca trees and play soccer with the local kids. 

Sitting under the hospital’s giant banyan tree, watching the sunset, he had wondered if the touch-me-not reminded Ushijima of him. He was like the sensitive plant. He would close himself off whenever Ushijima tried to get close to him. He had taken it with him to India and had watered it every day. By the time Oikawa’s treatment had finished and his knee had made a perfect recovery, the touch-me-not had delicate pink blossoms.

Oikawa returned to Japan and visited Ushijima. He remembers the strange excitement he felt as he saw Ushijima, with his hands in his pockets, waiting for him under the maples in the University’s garden. He remembers the eager look and surprised smile on Ushijima’s face as he thanked him for the tickle plant (“Ushiwaka-chan chose well. This plant is now my spirit animal!”) Oikawa felt proud as he saw the elation on Ushijima’s face when he was told of his full recovery. He had blushed, speechless as Oikawa went on about how his words and a tiny plant, helped lift him up at a low point in his life. Ushijima’s cheeks were as crimson as the Maple leaves under their feet as Oikawa leaned up and wrapped a soft, blue scarf around his neck.

” It’s Pashmina, from India. To keep you warm in the winter. The more you use it, the softer it gets”, Oikawa told, as he smoothed out the creases in it. 

Ushijima still has the scarf. He claims it’s the softest and warmest of all his scarves.

Oikawa returned to volleyball and won back his old title- ‘King of the Court’

When he wasn’t actively trying to hate Ushijima and everything about him, Oikawa realized that nobody else had jumped so high for him. Nobody else had hungered so much for his tosses and nobody had hit them harder. He found himself seeking out Ushijima and tossing to him in the heated moments of matches. He craved the satisfaction he felt whenever Ushijima spiked down his tosses with brute strength and absolute perfection. He was the great king and Ushijima was his supreme Knight. They were so similar yet so different. They were complementary. Their chemistry brought the entire team to life. They were unstoppable.

Their team won the nationals that season.

Oikawa remembers how he looked at Ushijima from under Kuroo’s embrace and how he saw him beaming at him from under whoever he was hugging, as the referee blew the whistle confirming their victory. He remembers wondering how Ushijima’s arms would feel wrapped around him, wishing it was him under the ace’s embrace.

Soon after, Oikawa started seeking out Ushijima for a lot of things. He sought him out when he wanted a study partner (and later scolded Ushijima that he was too quiet for a group study and made Oikawa fall asleep), sought him out after classes and walked with him (‘Dumb Ushiwaka-chan would lose his way without me’), sought him out on lonely nights when he just wanted some company (‘I know Ushiwaka chan is bored and alone. So I’m offering the luxury of my company’) Ushijima came whenever Oikawa called. As if he was waiting for Oikawa to call him. As if he was waiting for Oikawa to reach out to him. When Oikawa whined about everyone and their mother, Ushijima listened patiently. When Oikawa had a panic attack at 1 AM over an unfinished paper, Ushijima brought him coffee and milk bread. When Iwaizumi canceled on their movie night at the last minute due to an emergency and Oikawa was alone and down in the dumps, Ushijima brought him DVD’s (‘didn’t you have anything better!?’) and they watched it on Oikawa’s couch. When Oikawa threw a fit over Ushijima missing his tosses during one practice match, (Ushijima was under the weather), he apologized. When Oikawa strained himself too much with practice, it was Ushijima who always carted away the balls( You’re annoying as fuck Ushiwaka!’) and dragged him back to his dorm. It was Ushijima who stood strong and unflinching in his faith in Oikawa when his insecurities got the better of him again and his ugly side reared up. Ushijima’s calm was balm to the ache inside of Oikawa and he sought him shamelessly both on and off the court. Ushijima couldn’t have been happier, indulging Oikawa.

With his knee issues finally over and his potential career in Volleyball promising, by his third year in University, Oikawa had decided to come out to his family. Both he and Ushijima were back in Miyagi for the holidays. He remembers leaving the family gathering which had turned sour, quietly through the back door when everyone started yelling ‘Going to hell’ and his parents were ashamed to even look him in the eyes. It was raining hard. He remembers walking aimlessly through the streets in which he grew up. He felt the pedestrians’ and the street vendors’ eyes on him, piercing, judging. The street cats had hissed at him. Did they hate him too? He was so cold. He remembers walking to Ushijima’s house. He remembers a passionate Ushijima throwing open the doors and hugging him so hard he couldn’t breathe. Oikawa could only cling to him as Ushijima carried him inside and warmed his frozen heart and body. 

They became official after that. Ushijima became Oikawa’s everything and vice versa. They had danced around each other for too long. 

After several coffees, and dinners and movie dates with Ushijima, Iwaizumi cursed that Oikawa had become more spoiled insufferable than ever. He had congratulated Oikawa on his choice and had thumped Ushijima on the back and wished him all the best with “Drama-kawa”. By the end of their third year, Oikawa had moved in with Ushijima and they were in domestic bliss. Ushijima was too big in their small apartment and always broke the doors of their bathroom and kitchen cabinets. During the occasional fights, when he was reluctant to rise up to his taunts and refused to butt heads, Oikawa called him ”Ferdinand the bull”. But when Oikawa whispered in his ears to hold him tighter, to fuck him harder, and to never let go, Ushijima did just that.

Their team won the nationals again the next year. Graduation gave way to national scouts and Ushijima and Oikawa were catapulted into the world of professional volleyball. They were both scouted for the national men’s volleyball team. Professional volleyball was cut throat competition. They won many fights and lost some. Their team was good and Oikawa was their starting setter. With each volley, Oikawa appreciated his life more and more. He realized that he was as happy as one can be. He was living his dreams and he was loved and in love.

Though training was harsh and his family had cut him off completely, Oikawa remembers being the happiest he had ever been. That April, when spring was in full bloom, Ushijima took him out to the cherry blossom festival in Ueno Park. They held hands as they strolled beneath the sakura trees, bowed down with blossoms. When Ushijima got on one knee under the weeping willows beside the Shinobazu pond and presented Oikawa, a tiny box with a sapphire studded ring, he brushed off the flowers in his olive hair before nodding to pull him up and kiss him. Later, they whispered their vows to each other in front of the deities of the Kaneiji Temple.

Japan won the International volleyball championship that year. Oikawa was awarded the best setter. Soon after, Ushijima and he bought their house in a countryside in Kansai, to get away from the spotlights and glamor of their victory. It has been their heaven since then.

 

He can hear Ushijima in the Kitchen. He’s starting their breakfast. “We’re running low on supplies!” He calls out from the kitchen. He has to go grocery shopping today. They’ll return to their busy training schedule on Monday. Their next goal is the Olympics.

He finishes brushing and looks down at the ring on his finger. There’s a matching silver band on Ushijima’s ring finger that was put there by Oikawa. It’s been three years. The rings are still a perfect fit and the touch-me-not is still blooming.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't gotten bored and fallen asleep by now, please leave a kudos or drop a comment. They're more than welcome!


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